


Chapter Twelve: Between the Worlds

by CavalierConvoy



Series: MTMTE Series One: Shoot Straight with a Crooked Gun [13]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers Generation One, Transformers Generation Two, Transformers: Beast Machines, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Conspiracy, Emergency Medical Technicians, Gen, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injury Recovery, Other, Quantum Mechanics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 04:05:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3367133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavalierConvoy/pseuds/CavalierConvoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years ago, the plan went awry, and Skyfire brings his wounded friend to an outpost medical facility for recovery. </p><p>Three hundred years from now, Pantera considers the memory to be a deviation, but is that truly a bad thing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter Twelve: Between the Worlds

 

Always thought I could help you  
Always thought you needed me  
But since then I have learned  
There was nothing I could do

— ["Between the Worlds" ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i5SwiwWfEHQ)by Ravenous, from _Phoenix_

  
Thunderwing's _Warworld_ , occupied by Legion Troops under Liege Centuro Jhiaxus  
Three Stels Ago

Conversation surrounded her, heated, clipped. Starscream — she knew his voice all too well — was near her audio receptor, but unable to comprehend what he was saying. She was aware someone was holding her up. A whipping sound — high-speed wind whistling across an open door — made it impossible to pick out words and meanings. 

Save one phrase.

"Good-bye, Artemis," Starscream whispered, pushing her out of the ship.

*

//?ERROR—//  
//?TIME LOAD FAILURE: ABORT/RETRY/FAIL —//  
//?RETRY—//  
//?LOCATION: UNKNOWN—//  
//?STATUS: UNCONSCIOUS—//  
//?DURATION: THREE SOLS—//

She was aware of someone holding her hand: large, enveloping hers in a gentle grip. She whispered a name, a question.

The response was a tenor, soft and relieved. "No, Artemis, it's me, Skyfire." His smile radiated in his voice. "You're safe now."

"Where are we?" She questioned, attempting to sit; Skyfire held her shoulder down. 

"We're at a medical outpost," Skyfire stated. He was keeping his answers brief.

Artemis wanted to press the topic, but her head was too fuzzy to focus on the details. "How did we get here?"

She felt him cupping her cheek. "I followed you and Starscream after we separated, staying under the Warworld's radar, in its shadow. I...I'm sorry, Artemis."

"Sky, I can't see."

"They're repairing your optics," he explained. "The doctor tells me it will be probably tomorrow before your sight returns. I...I need to tell you something. I need to clear my conscience. I'm sorry, Artemis."

"What was his plan?" She demanded.

"It made too much sense. It was the only way to save you, he said. And it made too much sense. I'm sorry."

"Sky, shove your emotions and tell me what happened," her delivery was monotone; she had not the energy for anger.

Skyfire sighed. "We had no chance in taking over the ship by force. I stayed with the ship, under the sensors, and the plan was to get you off the Warworld."

Artemis groaned. "Starscream betrayed us, in so few words."

"We had no chance," Skyfire clasped her hand with both of his. "We had no backup. If there's only one certainty, it was to get you off that ship."

"He switched sides, Sky. He betrayed us. I know it's hard to believe he could throw us off the dock, but...." Actually, it wasn't. She sighed, gripping his hand. "We're alive. We're alive, Sky."

"What happened, Artemis?" he demanded.

She did not answer straight away. "Got in a fight," she stated. "You should see the other guy."

"You were fortunate," another voice, a lovely tenor, joined them. "You've got a strong spark, a common spark-type, a hearty shell, and a faithful friend. You'll have your sight back soon; part of the damage done was to the back of your head, affecting your optical cluster. You'll be back on your feet in no time."

"Thank you, Doc," Artemis rasped.

"Legion, as I understand? Little better than Decepticons. Curious what would have brought you this far out, but I am not in the position to ask questions. Now, I'm just going to check your vitals..."

"Where are we?" Artemis questioned.

"You're on Messatine, at the Delphi outpost," the doctor explained. "My name is Pharma, the chief medical director of the facility."

 

*

 

Cybertropolis  
Iacon District  
Three hundred stels from now and two decacycles ago

 

 _Why was she remembering that?_

Pantera studied another vehicle, a bore through the front of the cab. This one was a large truck, meant for all terrain, grey with orange-red markings. Something brushed her right hip, another around her shoulders, phantoms in the recesses of her past. She bristled, steeling her thoughts to the present. "Rossum's trinity," she muttered as though a grounding mantra. "Brain, spark, t-cog. Something — someone — took out the t-cog."

_"Drift — the pretty one, with Hound and Ratchet. Did you look closer?"_

As though on cue, Rattrap descended the stairs, the alternating squeak of tire and brake to keep from pitching forward. "Oi, 'Tera! You're not going to believe this!"

"We're scavving the site of a massacre involving Autobots who should not have been on this ship, Rattrap; I'm beyond disbelief at this point." Slag, she lost track of Skyfire/Starscream. 

"These guys? They may be missing their T-cogs, but those guys where we came in from?" Rattrap shuddered. "Someone stuffed their brains in their mouths! We should really get out of here!"

"What does Primal say?" she questioned, looking up at the cannon mounted on the back of the truck. No, it wasn't a cannon.

"He's...eh...he's sayin' he's sensing sparks, but we should vacate, minimal personnel."

"Cheetor back at base?" When Rattrap nodded, she continued. "We'll stay with Primal, then. If he's chasing sparks, then he's going to need back-up. Know what this is?" She pointed her chin at the truck-mounted cannon.

Rattrap, attempting to keep his horror in check, rounded the truck's cab and stared up at the device. "Judging by the coils and overall design, I'd say it's an old-school forcefield generator, likely forged with the shell, by the integration to the frame. They didn't make too many of these for add-ons, if memory serves — too heavy to tote around unless you were built like a metrotitan, and a waste of energy, if you ask me — "

"I asked you what it was, not your opinion of it," Pantera snapped. Why would she get upset about that? 

Still, Rattrap held up his hands. "Sorry! Friend of yours?"

She took her time to answer him. "Yes."

_"Had you taken a left instead of a right, would we have met?"_

 

*

 

_Where would that fork in the road be?_

 

*

Delphi Outpost  
Messatine  
Three Stels Ago

Messatine was a quiet outpost with a shady underbelly: Delphi was there to treat those in the nucleon mines, keeping the Iacon coffers filled during times of war with other planets. Most of it legal, but there were off-the-record dealings no one wished to address officially. 

Pharma, a tall, pretty Autobot jet, explained to Artemis the nature of her wounds, that he was unsurprised that she could not remember what had transpired over the course of three sols. The older wounds, those inflicted on the first and second sols, were the most brutal, indicating interrogation techniques by a Decepticon hand. The ones inflicted just before Skyfire's rescue, on the other hand, were superficial, intended to look horrific, but remaining only on the surface. The chief medic suspected there had been two different hands involved. 

"A covert agent, perhaps," he suggested, more to Skyfire. Artemis was fine with the deflection of leadership; Sky can handle things until she got her mind sorted. "A practised one at that."

"'Play dead', he said," Artemis whispered. 

"And there you have it," Pharma's smile radiated in his voice. "He just might have saved your life. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other patients to attend to, but if you need anything before this evening, please don't hesitate to call on one of the ward nurses."

"And what benefit would he have to save my life?" Artemis growled once Pharma had left the room. 

"He said something odd to me as well," Skyfire admitted. "About how one cannot ignore the past completely."

"Likely just him being his usual self."

Skyfire's mouth quirked into a small smile as he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I didn't witness his downfall like you. Perhaps that's why I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I'm sorry."

"I was just the rebound," she smirked. "Of course I got the brunt of it." She pushed herself up into a comfortable sitting position. "So what's the plan? Have we contacted the others yet?"

"I was able to send a subspace ping to the Little Revenge for pick up with coordinates, via Cavalier's scrambler. As for the plan..." he hesitated. "Do you wish to know what Starscream had told me?"

"Yeah, I want to know what he told you. That way I can try to figure something out to counter whatever he's scheming."

"He told me to give him five sols from initiation. If we do not hear back from him by then, assume he is dead."

"In other words, we'll hear from him on Sol Six." Oh, good, her sarcasm returned.

Skyfire made a little noise from his throat that could have been a laugh. "If he isn't dead, he will give us the signal."

"He thinks he's going to take over the ship himself," Artemis growled. "Oh, this will be rich. What's stopping him from using it against us?"

Skyfire was about to comment, but pressed his mouth into a grim, apologetic line.

"He gave you his word." Artemis sighed, staring up at the ceiling. "No, I know. I'm not going to blame you, Sky; I don't want you to be the jaded one."

"Artemis, I'm sorry — "

"Do we have an ETA for the _Little Revenge_?"

"By midnight, local time. Clearance has been given, so we can have a proper boarding."

"Nearby space bridge?"

Skyfire nodded. "Three megacycles at eighty percent output. I've already made the calculations."

"Direct to Cybertron. Ping Roadbuster, tell him you're under my orders to gather available system-side Wreckers for a second-wave assault."

"'Second wave'?"

"You and I are first wave. If we fail, they're under orders to destroy the Warworld."

"Do you think — "

"If Starscream controls the ship, he's going to go straight to Cybertron. And you and I are probably the only two beings in the universe he's not going to destroy on sight." 

Skyfire considered the order and nodded.

"And Sky?"

The giant looked down at the blue-on-black Autobot, patient.

"Please don't lose your optimism. I think I need it to counteract my cynicism." She reclined, concentrating on the silence. 

The silence.

 _Soldier?_ She beckoned. At first she thought he was ignoring her; after all, she was stupid enough to consider a plan involving Starscream. 

And that was when she understood that something was missing.

 

*

 

Cybertropolis  
Three Hundred Stels from Now, Two Decacycles Ago

 _Where the hell was Skyfire?_

"He went ahead, to the engine room," Pantera reported; in truth, it was an educated guess. "He suspects they're causing some sort of quantum ripple that brought this ship here in the first place. I don't pretend to understand the science behind it."

Optimus Primal, in his beast mode, looked up at her, weighing her statement. She had taken a perch upon the truck with the forcefield generator, cross-legged with the hammer in her lap. "Do you recognise this ship, Elder?" he questioned.

She shook her head. Even ousted from the Council, he still used her honorific. "Not directly. Both Sky and I are getting...ghosting, for lack of a better word. Like deja vu. I needed a moment to collect my thoughts, make certain those I have are my own."

"There's definitely residue," Optimus agreed, rounding the front of the truck. "A great sadness. You have friends on this ship."  
Have. "I recognise some, yes. But they don't belong here. Ratchet and Hound...they died en route to Earth three hundred stels ago. Cyclonus would never join a crew of Autobots, yet he here he is. Ultra Magnus died defending Autobot City. This fella here..." she patted the roof of the truck. "I don't know him, but I feel a strong kinship with him. Like finding a long lost spark brother."

Optimus said nothing, but climbed up to join her. He settled on his haunches, staring at the same point she was, the wall in clear sight of the skewered white and blue Autobot; Cyclonus's shell was nearby, obscured.

"I did not wish to alarm the others," he muttered, just low enough for her to catch his words in the dead air, "but you're here as well. Or rather, your old shell."

She gripped the hammer's hilt. "Yeah. Already found that."

"This ship isn't from our past, then."

"No. It's not. Skyfire thinks it's from an alternate, parallel universe."

"The jump didn't kill these Autobots," Optimus observed.

"They were dead before the jump. Slaughtered. Those the attackers saw as a threat were taken out quick. The rest were tortured. Rattrap told me about the brain modules in the mouths of some; these guys were forced into vehicular mode and had their t-cogs removed. The little guy there..." she nodded to the bot she had been staring at for the better part of a quarter megacycle, "His death was different. 

"We've got three methods of death: heavy hitters were taken out with a powerful blast to the spark, the majority were found in vehicular mode and had their t-cogs removed, and a few had their brains surgically removed and shoved into their mouths. If they were killed by the first method, then we could speculate pirates, or bounty hunters. Once someone adds the torture element, especially something so precise as removing organs, you've got serial killers, organ harvesters. But this kid — " she pointed to the skewered Autobot, "— he doesn't fit the pattern. He watched the others as they were killed, as he was dying from a bleeding spark wound. He's not outwardly special: small, weak, hell, he's got no weapons, on-board or anywhere near him. But he was tortured, that wound was on purpose. Why?"

Optimus bowed his head, closing his optics. "Can we trust Skyfire in his current state?" he broke his silence.

"My opinion? No." Pantera stood, resting the hammer on her shoulder. "I'm going to hunt him down. But there's something here, Optimus. It's meant for us to find it. And we can't let Megatron find it." She rested her hand on the forcefield generator before jumping onto the ground.

"Elder?"

"You don't have to call me that, Optimus."

"I still hold the opinion that you deserve the title." He tilted his head, meeting her gaze. "What was your function?"

"There was a time where that would be considered rude." Her chide was with humour. "The Functionists labelled me as a courier, specialising in search and retrieval." She smirked. "I wanted to be a cop. Started my rookie stel in the Rodion precinct. Then the Senate tapped me for a special mission. They needed a no-name 'bot with certain talents to infiltrate the then-fledgling Decepticon movement."

_"Always the storyteller, Art. You could never resist the chance to tell a tale."_

If Optimus heard the voice, he did not acknowledge it. Instead, he nodded. "I wonder how different our history and future had been had you continued on your original path?"

"I'd probably be dead on a ship lost in a parallel universe," Pantera countered, leaving the room.

NEXT CHAPTER: Cage Around The Sun


End file.
